


Trust Me

by Anonymous



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tenderness, and they explore space together, consensual PAK removal, they're friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dib takes care of Zim after a fight.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 99
Collections: Anonymous





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> If I think of any more stories about their space adventures, I'll make this a series. But for now my friends, enjoy the snack.

Zim had a penchant for trouble, and a zest for chaos that was both terrifying and exhilarating. That was part of Dib’s appeal to the small alien, although sometimes it was better to hold him back from doing anything too reckless. But that was all a part of their balance, their magnetism to each other. Their weird connection was how they ended up touring the stars together. It’s how they ended up in a dive bar in Vort's worst neighborhood. And it's ultimately how they ended up walking back to their hotel room licking their wounds after a bar fight. 

The locals were mostly resisty fighters, not fond of Irkens to begin with; but particularly Invaders. Although they had walked out victorious (the other’s didn’t have the pleasure of walking out at all), Zim had been thrown through a table pretty hard. Dib could still hear the pained yelp torn from the irken as he landed straight on his PAK. 

The walk back to the hotel was short. Zim complained the whole time, Dib listened half heartedly as he examined his own bloody knuckles. At least he got a few good punches in before Zim knocked the thugs out for good. By the time Dib was slipping his key card in the door, Zim was still prattling on. He complained about the state of the bar, the cleanliness, the staff, the food, the uncomfortable pressure under his PAK, the - 

"Wait," Dib cut in, hanging his coat up on the rack. Zim sped by him to the bathroom. "Are you okay? That doesn't sound good." 

Zim reached behind himself, splitting his tunic down the middle of his back. He peeled it off delicately, like he was plucking a petal off of a flower. 

Zim had little shame when it came to nudity. Dib had a lot of theories why; military lifestyle, cultural differences, or just plain obliviousness. No matter the explanation, it didn't make Dib any less surprised by it. He stood in the doorway blushing, watching Zim poke and prod at the flesh around his PAK. 

"Yes, everything is fine," There was a good amount of swelling, bruises peeking out from under the metal casing. Zim was right, he would be fine, but his voice still wavered as he felt over the sore spots. "It will heal." 

Dib hissed through his teeth with empathy, phantom pains racking him. Zim was like a cat when he was in pain. He didn't want to let on how much it hurt, admitting hurt was a sign of weakness. He would rather die than admit a splinter dared pierce his paw. 

"You could take it off for a little while," Dib suggested carefully. Zim looked at him bewildered, then angry, then contemplative. "There's an ice machine, it will help the swelling." 

It had been years since they stopped trying to kill each other, years since they became friends. Their relationship was tumultuous, jagged, and messy with the highest highs Dib could have dreamed of. They were at a point of mutual trust and allyship. All they had was each other, so they didn’t exactly have a choice.

No matter how much their relationship improved; Dib learned that the past has a cruel bite. Although it had been so long since they were enemies, he could feel it breathing down his neck at times. He could tell Zim was thinking the same, eyeing Dib up like they hadn't spent the last year and a half galavanting through space together. It was a tall order, one Dib was sure going to be No. 

"Fine," Zim conceded, pushing past Dib with a dramatic sigh. Every step, every little movement made him wince as the pressure built beneath the device. "But only for five minutes. Five. Minutes." 

"Five minutes. That's all I need." Dib agreed, grabbing the ice bucket. When he came back, Zim was sprawled out on the bed with his boots and gloves stored neatly by his suitcase. He was staring at the wall until Dib walked in. He had an expression Dib found was reserved just for him. A soft, nervous glint in his eyes that Dib never saw anywhere else. He took off his dirty, blood-stained shirt and laid down facing the alien. 

"Are you ready?" Dib asked, running his cool fingers up and down Zim's delicate back. Zim melted at the touch, closing his eyes at the sensation. 

"Yes, but," He opened his eyes back up, biting his lip with a frown. He could only look so menacing with his half his face in a pillow. "Be gentle. Don't touch the ports. When I say time's up-"

"Time's up. I know," Dib leaned in, capturing his trembling lips in a kiss. They were soft and strange, yet Dib was getting more and more familiar with them. "Do you trust me?" 

"Yes," Zim confessed in a quick breath, almost a prayer. Dib kissed him again, slow and tender, cupping his cheek until he stopped shaking. "Don't make me regret it, earthboy." 

Zim reached behind himself to remove his PAK. It was a swift, elegant motion. Much quicker and more painless than when Dib had done it in elementary school. Zim tensed for a moment, eyes going blank before he was back to that soft, nervous look. He sighed with relief when his PAK was set aside, the pressure was starting to get overwhelming. 

Curiosity sparked in Dib's mind as he examined the holes and indent left from the device. The ports were deep, plated with metal surrounded by a primal looking scar. In the indent, there was a lot of bruising, some from the fight, some much much older. 

Zim told him how irkens get their PAKs as soon as they are hatched. They were then loaded up with propaganda and assigned a job. The holes looked painful to get, especially as a baby. Dib wasn't sure how irken smeets grow or how their culture worked, but it didn't sit right with him. He was staring down Zim's first memory, a trauma that he carried ever since his first breath. The scars were just that; scars. They were too late to heal, marks set like brands on cattle; Dib ached to sooth them anyway. 

"Does it hurt?" Dib asked, rubbing an ice cube over the edge of where his skin met the device.. 

"Not anymore," Zim replied, muffled by the pillow. Dib ran the ice in small circles over the bruises. "Feels, uh. Feels good, actually." 

A grin tugged at Dib's lips, a warm feeling sat in his chest at the words. "No one touches you like this, huh?" 

"Don't let it go to your giant head," He said, starting to purr at the cool touch.

They sat there until the ice melted in Dib's fingers, dripping from Zim's back onto the sheets. Dib kissed the base on his neck, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb over the verdant skin beneath him. Half an inch under the first, Dib kissed him again, and again, moving down the ridges of Zim's spine. The last kiss was right above the first port, lips grazing the metal. He heard Zim's intake of breath. He let his hands roam over exposed skin, listening to Zim's reactions. 

"How much time is left?" Dib all but whispered, entrapped by the new places he could make Zim squirm. 

"T- Thirty seconds." He slurred, barely able to talk. 

"What!?" Dib's eyes went wide, panic raising in his chest. "How do I put it back on?" 

"Ugh," Zim groaned, fumbling to reconnect his PAK. He stretched his arms out, settling back into the device with a satisfied smile. "That felt good." 

"You're so stupid, I hate you so much," Dib almost felt like slapping him. 

"Come on, I was about to tell you to stop," Zim slithered into his lap, pressing him against the mattress. "Besides, you liked it." 

Dib blushed, gaze averted. Zim was right, but that wasn't the point. "At least give a full minute warning next time, I don't want to accidentally kill you because it feels good." 

Zim laughed, lacing their fingers together. "Alright, Dib-stink. Minute warning next time." 

"And for the record," Dib pulled him down by the neck, kissing him deeply before dragging Zim's lip between his teeth. "I can make you feel good without killing you." 

"Hah! I'd like to see you try!" Zim laughed, getting pulled into another kiss.


End file.
